All We Are
by the ticking clock
Summary: They are beasts of fire. They are warrior and teachers, healers and scholars. They are Rider and Dragon. And sometimes even they do not understand their own bond, but they know one thing: they are never alone. A collection of one shots.
1. Chapter 1 Eragon and Saphira

**this story is a collection of one shots exploring the bond between dragon and rider. they are in no particular order, and can be set in the past, present, or future. Each chapter will be a different "pair"...after book 4 is out, I might revise and fix this, or add more if inspiration strikes me, I'm not sure...**

**please leave your thoughts in a review!**

sometimes even they do not know the depth of their bond, sometimes they take it for granted. It is only when they are apart that Eragorn realizes that half of his soul belongs to Saphira, and when she is gone, he doesn't know how to live.

* * *

><p>Even when she was a small hatchling, Saphira knew who she was, and she knew that the young-male with the kind-thoughts lived in her mind, and so sometimes, she thought about what it would be like to lose him, but the thought sent cold emotions running through her, so she decided that she would simply never let him out of her sight.<p>

If only she had kept that promise.

* * *

><p>As fire rains down around them, and the screams of a dragon in agony echo in their ears, accompanied by Murtagh's hoarse cries, Eragon wraps his arms tightly around Saphira's neck and buries his face against her scales, clenching his eyes shut as though to block the horror and pain from the world. Saphira sweeps through his mind with a gentle touch and whispers. <em>I<em>_ love __you __little __one._

A small sob escapes him and he hugs her tighter, wincing as Thorn howls even louder. _I__ love __you __too._

* * *

><p>Although Arya had grown up around Oromis and Glaedr, she sometimes forgot how strong the bond between Rider and Dragon was. It was only when she saw Eragon, weak and in pain, starved from months of captivity, lift his face to the sky and smile, the most beautiful smile she had ever seen on his face, that she knew that Saphira was close. And when the dragon landed and rushed towards her Rider, all Eragon can do is place his hands on either side of her muzzle(he is to weak to stand), press his forehead against hers, and cry. And as Saphira hums low in her throat, Arya vows that the two will never be separated again.<p>

* * *

><p>It is simple moments like this that give Eragon a reason to live. He throws his arms back, embracing the world, and yells at the top of his voice as Saphira dives towards the ground, her own excitement pouring into his mind. As her wings snap open, halting their fall, she says, <em>have<em>_ I __ever __told __you__ to __hold __on, __Eragon?_

He laughs. _I__ don__'__t __need __to __hold __on,__ Saphira.__You __will __catch __me __if __I __fall._

_ Oh,__will__ I?_She abruptly folds her left wing and flips upside down in a dizzying wrench, hurling Eragon from her back.

For a moment, he panics, and is about to reach for magic when Saphira's talons close around his middle, and her laugh resonates through his mind. _Got __you,__little__ one._

* * *

><p>As they sit in silence, Eragon lying in between her front paws, staring up at the stars, he whispers, <em>Saphira?<em>

_ yes little one? _

_ I don't know what to do. _

She hums, a deep, soothing rumble that comes from her chest, like a purr. _you __don__'__t __have __to,__little __one.__Your__ heart __is __your__ guide._

_ My heart died awhile back. _

She lowers her head to press her snout against his cheek. _but __mine __didn__'__t._

* * *

><p>Arya is helpless, all she can do is stand and watch as the Rider screams, clutching his head, falling to his knees, tears streaking the dirt off his face as he mouths one word, <em>Saphira<em>

* * *

><p>As Saphira rushes into his mind, filling him with strength and hope, Eragon slowly rises to his feet, his fingers closing around the hilt of Brisingr. He looks at his dragon. Her lip is curled back to expose her her gleaming fangs, her scales are sparkling like a thousand gems, and tiny spits of flame leap from her nostrils with each breathe. In this moment, she is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.<p>

_Saphira?_

She turns to look at him with bright saphire eyes, the same fierce look she had given him before the Battle of the Burning Plains, only a few months ago(it felt like years) and a torrent of emotion rises up inside him. He swallows hard and places a hand on her neck. _Shall __we __dance?_

She blinks, long and slow. _We__ shall,__little __one._

As their identities merge, they leap forward, two beasts of fire, two relentless fighters, two hunters, two healers, two best friends.

One mind.

They are dragon and Rider, and nothing, not even Galbatorix, or any darker being that stalks the land, can take that away from them.

And that is the greatest bond in the whole world.


	2. Chapter 2 Oromis and Glaedr

**just to clear some things up: these "chapters" are a series of little snippets that I feel show the bond between a rider and dragon...the snippets in each chapter are not at all related to each other. they are their own separate oneshots. I hope this helps...**

Oromis had never felt so free. As he clung to a spike on Glaedr's neck, high up in the clouds, at the ceiling of the world, he thought that this was how it should be, that right now, everything was perfect.

* * *

><p>Glaedr had always loved Oromis, and now, when the elf was weak and broken, so utterly small and alone, he loved him more. Bending down and sweeping his weeping Rider up in the warm shelter of his wings, Glaedr held Oromis as he would a hatchling, and hummed a soothing song as his Rider clung to him, the only person in the world who could understand what he was going through.<p>

* * *

><p>Eragon and Saphira are like no other student they have ever had, and Oromis watched the two young being interact, suddenly feeling very old and very tired. <em>How <em>_did__ it __come __to __this?_He asked, turning to his dragon. _that __the__ fate __of __our __world__ rests __on__ these __two__ children?_

Glaedr, snorting, twisting his gigantic head around to examine Oromis with one large golden eye. _they __have__ the __strength __to __do__ what __they __must._he said.

_I __know...  
><em>

the ground shook as Glaedr laughed, pressing his snout against Oromis's forehead. _we __were __young __once __too,__Oromis._

Oromis smiled. _I__ know._

* * *

><p>As he lifts Brom into his arms, cradling his sobbing student as though he were a child, Oromis feels his own eyes fill with tears at the sound of Brom's anguished cries. The young Rider did not deserve to experience the pain of losing his dragon, not when they had so many years stretching out before them.<p>

With a soft sigh, Glaedr touches his mind, enveloping him with warm emotions. _Do __not __forget,_his dragon said softly, _our __bond,__for __it __will __help __you __heal __his__ broken__ soul._

Oromis felt a tear slip down his cheek. _How__ could __I__ ever __forget? _

* * *

><p>there were some things that never changed, no matter how old you were. As Oromis wrapped his arms around Glaedr's neck and sighed, finally comfortable after a day of pain-filled seziurs and fits, the dragon snorted and swung his head around to glance at his Rider. <em>Shall <em>_we?_

Oromis only laughed.

The dragon tucked his wings to his sides and they shot towards the forest at an incredable speed, their minds melded together. And even though he knew they had little time left togather, even though he knew that one day soon, he was going to die, in that moment, Oromis felt like they had all the time in the world.


	3. Chapter 3 Brom and Saphira

The first time he sees her, he thinks she is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and that he could stare at her forever and never get bored. And he could have.

But Morzan had torn her away from him, and not a day goes by where he doesn't miss her.

* * *

><p>He was only ten when she hatched, and she, only a newborn, but they were the closest dragon and rider that Oromis had ever met. As he watched his two students soar through the skies togather, he said to Glaedr, <em>they<em>_ will __make __fine __teacher__s some__day, __don__'__t __you __think?_

the gold dragon snorted. _Saphira__ will, __but __I__'__m __not __to __sure __about __Brom.__That __boy__ asks __to __many __questions._

* * *

><p>Saphira always knew when something was troubling him. When he would stay up all night, missing his family, or even Morzan, and the friendship that they had, she would come and pull him close with her wing, hugging him to her warm body and coiling her tail around him. <em>No <em>_matter __what __happens,_she said, _I__ will __never __abandon__ you._

years later, sometimes all Brom can think is, _but__ you__ did._

* * *

><p>Saphira was't the most respectful dragon. Once, when Oromis pushed Brom to the point of exshaustion and the young boy lay crying on the ground, the elf gently attampting to consoul him, the dragon marched up to the ancient elf, bared her teeth, and snarled, so low and menacing that Brom ceased his tears to stare. <em>Saphira?<em>

_ You __will __NEVER __push __him__ that __hard __again,_she snarled, her tail lashing back and forth as though she were about to pounce, _Or__ I __will __pin __you __to __the __ground __and __shake __you __like __a __hatchling.__Glaedr __will __not __be __able __to __stop __me._

Ignoring Glaedr's soft growl and Oromis's astonished exclamation, Saphira bent down and gently nudged Brom to his feet. _We __will __see __you __in __the__ morning, __Master._

As Brom swung up onto her back, he whispered, _why__ would__ you__ do__ that,__ Saphira?_

She twisted her head around to touch her nose to his shoulder. _because __you __needed __a __rest._

That was the kind of friend Saphira was. She was never afraid to stand up for her friends, espically when that friend, was her Rider.

* * *

><p>Saphira threw back her head and laughed, long and deep, a rumble that reminded Brom of a mountain avalanche. He laughed too, laughed until tears were rolling down his cheeks and he was struggling to breathe. When he was finally able to see, he grinned up at his dragon. <em>Saphira, <em>_do __you __want __to __know __something?_

She blinked, butting her head hard against him until he was lying flat on his back. _what?_

Wincing, he stood. _I__ think...I __think __you__'__re __my __best __friend._

Her eyes sparkled with emotion and she pressed her snout against his forehead, humming. _I __think __you__'__re __mine __too._

* * *

><p>The battle is terrifying, full of fire and death and screams. Brom clings to Saphira with both his body and his mind as they hurtle towards the ground, roaring, their pain flowing from mind to mind, until Brom can't tell who's wings ache from flying, and who's legs burn from the fire. They open their wings and read backward, they see the arrow, but are two tired and two weak to stop it.<p>

Saphira's scream of agony belongs to both of them.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, when Eragon is asleep, Brom sits by the fire and watches his son...his son and his dragon sleep togather, Eragon curled against her side like he belongs there. He watched them lock eyes and converse with their minds, still exploring their bond. If only they knew...<p>

Saphira, Eragon's Saphira, catches him watching one night, and before he can shield his thoughts, her mind brushes against his with a questioning touch.

They are so alike, the two Saphira's yet so different. His Saphira was a bit more wild and playful, this dragon is more calm and fierce,but they both have the same gentle thoughts.

_ what was her name? _

Brom looks at the saphire dragon in front of him. She is staring at him with unblinking eyes, her scales shimmering in the light from the fire, her tail coiled pertectivly around her Rider. If he closes his eyes, he can picture another Rider and another dragon, holding onto each other, snuggling and laughing and playing...

A tear slips down his cheek and he swallows hard. _her__ name..._

Eragon's dragon blinks and extends her neck to brush him gently on the forehead with her jaw. _Oh __Brom..._

He reaches up and strokes her cheek once, just a gentle touch, a thank you. _Her__ name...was __Saphira._

Eragon's Saphira snorts with suprise and pulls back, regarding him with solmen eyes. _Saphira..._

Brom closes his eyes and leans back against the trunk of a tree, and the pain, ever present, rises in him. A desperate, wild, haunting longing, for the one who could understand him, the other half of his soul.

_Saphira..._

* * *

><p><strong>so sorry for all the spelling mistakes...my computer has decided it hates me, and doesn't want to help me spell...<em>hope you still enjoyed the chapter...<em>**

****_reviews help me write faster...  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4 Murtagh and Thorn

**Murtagh and Thorn's is short because I've never really seen into their heads, so I don't really know how they act or what they go through...I might have to add more if we see some Murtagh content in book 4(which I REALLY hope we do)**

**but leave your thought and theories in a review pretty please :)**

Misery. For the longest time, that was what Murtagh's existence was...pure misery and pain. But then Thorn hatched for him, and for a single selfish instant, he was glad that he would have someone else to share the pain with.

* * *

><p>As he and Thorn are tortured and trained, Murtagh can't help but think of Eragon. surely his <strong>brother<strong> was never put through this. He didn't watch his dragon grow to fast or be broken down like a stupid animal. He wasn't locked down in unbreakable chains. At time like these, Thorn only laughs, wrapping his mind around Murtagh's (sometimes they are kept apart) and says, _stop__ comparing __us __to __the __pretty blue__scales .__we __are __not __like __them.__I __hatched __for __YOU,__murtagh,__not __the __farm__ boy.__you __are __my __Rider.__You__ are __the __only __one __I __want._

And even though he is exhausted and angry, hurt and broken, Murtagh manages a small smile.

* * *

><p>As the pain flows through Murtagh, the sharp knives stabbing into his chest, the fire lashing at his back, the pounding behind his eyes, Thorn rushes into his thoughts and pours strength and love into his mind, filling his mind with happy memories so Murtagh can endure the torture, so that his Rider won't be broken.<p>

After days of torture as punishment for not capturing Eragon and Saphira, hours of reciting the ancient language, binding themselves with more oaths, Murtagh curls up on the floor of their room and wishes that he could melt into the floor...disappear. He will have to capture them now, he will have to hurt Eragon, hurt Saphira. And even though Galbortorix has captured him, broken him, given him this great power, he still knows that this is _wrong._so wrong...

The tears start, and once he begins crying, he can't stop. wracking sobs sent him into convulsions and he rocks back and forth, completely overwhelmed.

Thorn crawls up behind him and pulls him close, curling around his Rider and pressing his head against Murtagh's. Murtagh's pain and Thorn's misery flow across their mental link, and the two hold onto each other, crying tears of pain and grief for the predicament, and tears of joy because they have each other, and they know that they are never, ever alone. Galbotrix might have taken everything else, but he can't take away their bond.

* * *

><p>Red. Red was the color of blood, or wine, death and misery. Murtagh had always hated the color. It wasn't until Thorn hatched for him that he began to appreciate the beauty of red. Maybe it wasn't the color of death, but rather, the color of hope.<p>

* * *

><p>Thorn is confused.<p>

He doesn't understand so many things. He doesn't understand why he must endure this torture, why he hatched simply so he could be locked down in chains. Why he can't control his body right, why he can sense the minds of hundreds of dragons, roaring and screaming for release.

The only thing he understands is that Murtagh will never abandon him, and that someday, they will free themselves and then maybe, together, they will find peace.

Murtagh had never let anyone willingly into his mind, Thorn was the first. As the little ruby dragon looked up at him with crimson eyes, eyes that were horribly sad, Murtagh extended his hand. As the hatchling nudged his fingers, the icy heat flooded through him, and Murtagh felt the dragon in his mind, and for once, he did not block his thoughts. he let the dragon into his mind, and from that moment onward, he has never shielded his thoughts from his partner. Maybe because it is the only thing that keeps him sane.

* * *

><p>As Thorn winged his way to the Varden, he gave a little buck to draw Murtagh's attention. <em>I <em>_learned __a __new __word __today._

_ what__ was __it?_Murtagh asked absently. His mind was on the fight ahead, of what he would have to do...and that there was no way he could get out of it this time. he didn't want to deal with Thorn's playfulness now-there were more pressing matters at hand.

Thorn snapped his jaws together and lashed his tail. **murtagh!**

_what__ was __it __Thorn?_

The dragon laughed, a deep bass rumble that came from his chest and belly, causing Murtagh's legs to vibrate. _fun._

And then he clasped his wings and shot towards the ground. Murtagh yelled and tightened his hold on his dragon's neck to keep his seat, a sudden exhilaration sweeping through him. For an instant, he feels _free._


	5. Chapter 5 ALL

**this one is a combination of ALL the Riders and dragons...a little treat before I immerse myself in Inheritance(only a few more days!) you can be sure I'll return to this little story after I finish the final book :) until then, please leave a review, and enjoy!**

Brom wrapped his arms around himself, rocking back and forth. He was confused. hopelessly confused and upset, and-

_I__ don__'__t __know __what __to __do!_

Saphira twisted her head around to press her snout against his cheek. _that__'__s __why __you __have __me._

* * *

><p>Oromis clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as another excruciating tremor racked his body, rendering him helpless on the ground. <em>I<em>_'__m__ broken, __Glaedr,_He cried, the tears streaming down his face the only thing moving as his body was locked painfully in place by another convulsion. _we__'__re __broken._

Glaedr lowered his head so he and his Rider were eye to eye. _Then __it __is __good __that __two __broken __halves __make __a __whole._

* * *

><p>Murtagh leaned his head back, staring at the stars through the veil of trees. This place brought back so many memories...bittersweet memories of freedom and sparring, of having a friend...of being himself. Now he could still travel the world, but he was locked in mental chains. He no longer knew what <em>freedom <em>was. The word had lost its meaning.

_Someday,_Thorn said softly. _Someday...you__'__ll__ remember._

Murtagh closed his eyes. _someday..._

The dragon let out a soft growl that was almost a purr. _and __we __will __fly __and __play __and __dance __together, __won__'__t __we?_

There was so much emotion behind the thought, so much innocence and pain and hope, that Murtagh was glad they weren't speaking out loud, because there was suddenly a hard lump in his throat. _Of__ course __we __will,__Thorn. __Of __course __we __will._

* * *

><p>Eragon threw back his head, and screamed as the pain ripped through him, screamed as he felt Saphira's agony rebound across their mental link, and as they clung to each other with their thoughts, he sent to Saphira, <em>I<em>_ will __never __let __go of __you_.

It was a few minutes before she found the thoughts to respond, but an overwhelming wave of love crashed into his mind before she whispered, _I __know_.

And the next cry that tore from Eragon's throat was the roar of a dragon.

* * *

><p>Their bond was something that she would never understand.<p>

Even after years of knowing the Rider and his dragon, Arya was still surprised at times when Eragon would burst into laughter and sprint off into the distance, only to have Saphira swoop out of the sky and catch him in her claws, carrying him up into the wind, a place where the pair new best, a place where she could only dream about.

And sometimes...she's just a little jealous.

* * *

><p>Brom was stronger than Oromis had ever expected. When his former student turned to leave after telling them the news of his son, and Selena, Oromis caught his wrist. "I'm proud of you, Brom."<p>

Brom dipped his head in a small bow. "Thank you, Master."

Glaedr swung his head around and hummed low in his throat, lowering his head to brush Brom on the brow. _Saphira__ would __be __proud __of __you, __Little __One._

Brom closed his eyes and smiled, answering the gold dragon with his thoughts: _I __know...I __know..._

* * *

><p><em> Am I like her? <em>

The question caught Brom off guard and he stared at the saphire dragon. "What?"

Saphira, Eragon's Saphira, tilted her head slightly to the side and regarded him with unblinking eyes. _Am__ I __like __your __dragon?_

Sighing, Brom leaned against his sword. _In__ some __ways._it was almost by instinct that he responded with his thoughts. Eragon...his son...was to deeply asleep to notice.

Saphira blinked.

Smiling, Brom sat beside her, leaning against her left foreleg, in the same way he had once done with his own dragon. _She__ was __also __stubborn...she __was __funny, __fierce, __and__ very __loyal._He glanced up at her. _But __she __was also __a __bit __more __wild __than __you._

Saphira growled.

Brom let out a bark of laughter. _Oh__ Saphira...not __in __the __way __you __think. __She __was __less __focused __on __serious __things. __she __did __not __have __to fi__ght __to __survive __as __you __do. __She __was __a __bit __more __playful __and__ disrespectful._

The young dragon lowered her head so that they were eye to eye. _Does __it...hurt...to __be __around __me, __because __of __her?_

Brom closed his eyes, the familiar pain and longing surfacing inside his mind, his soul. _no...it__ hurts __every __second __of __every__day, __even __when __you __are __not __here. __but,_he smiled. _you __help __me __find __myself __again, __when __dark__ thoughts __take __over._

Saphira hummed and swiped her tongue across his cheek.

And Brom scratched under her jaw, the constant ache in his chest loosing ever so slightly.

* * *

><p>Eragon leaned his head against Saphira's neck, half-closing his eyes, the steady beat of her wings rocking him to sleep. <em>Saphira?<em>

_ yes, little one? _

_ will__ you __promise __to __never __let __me __fall?_there was more meaning behind his question then simply the words themselves. he meant, will you keep me away from pain, keep me from drowning in despair, keep me from loosing myself, keep me smiling, make me laugh, make me fly...will you promise to make me, _me?_

A purr rippled from her throat and her mind rushed across his in a warm mental embrace.

_Always,__ Little __one.__ Always._


	6. Chapter 6 Inheritance inspired snippets

**these were all inspired by Inheritance...they are not in any particular order. most are set after the book ends, but one is not...I hope you enjoy. So many people didn't like the final, book, and I LOVED it. I really like how Christopher wrapped things up while leaving somethings untouched for later novels. I cried so hard at the end...**

**Arya will get her own snippets, don't worry. :) these just popped into my head first. **

**please review, even if you hate them. and would you mind posting your favorite quote from Inheritance? I have to many to choose from and want to see what you think!**

As the boat surfaced on the sandy shore, Eragon sprang down onto the ground, tilting his face up to the sun and closing his eyes, exhaling slowly. He felt the questioning touch of Glaedr's vast mind and welcomed the ancient dragon into his thoughts.

_so..._Glaedr mused, his voice a deep rumble in Eragon's consciousness. _we __begin __again._

Saphira landed beside Eragon in a spray of sand. _yes._there was grief in her thoughts, but also hope, hope for a new life. Eragon put a hand on her neck and reached out to brush his fingers over one of the dragon eggs in his care. _we__ begin __again..._

* * *

><p>As the young dragons soared through the sky, Saphira occasionally rebuking them with a good natured growl, Eragon allowed himself a small moment of peace and closed his eyes.<p>

_She __is __a __fine __teacher, __Shadeslayer. _Glaedr murmured only to him, his voice a soft sigh. Eragon could sense the pride in his voice.

_I__ know._

_ Oromis would be so proud of you..._

Eragon smiled and bent to pick the Eldunari up and cradle it against his chest. _He __would __be __proud __of __you __as __well, __Ebrithil._

Eragon opened his eyes and stared out at the vast expanse of the land, and marveled as the dragons twisted and dove in the azure sky.

* * *

><p>Gallbotrix had never loved Shruiken.<p>

The dragon was a tool for him, nothing more...nothing less. What he really wanted, was _her._Even after so many centuries, so many years without hearing her voices, touching her scales, flying with her...he still woke up sobbing in the middle of the night, and the only one he could turn to for comfort was the large, twisted, angry dragon who he never should have had. All he had was Shruiken, but Shruiken just wasn't enough.

* * *

><p>The darkness didn't end...in truth Eragon had always known that it never would. He was a Dragon Rider, and as Brom had once told him, a Dragon Rider could never rust when their was injustice in the land. But how he had wished that they might escape misfortune for even a little while...a decade of peace was all they had been granted.<p>

He felt Saphira before he saw her, and a grin spread across his face. He strained in his bonds and shouted,_Saphira!_

A snarl was the only response he received.

She landed in front of him with a thunderous crash, her talons digging deep into the earth. She snorted and regarded him for a moment with her lips curled, eyes blazing. A low growl rippled in her throat.

Eragon fidgeted nervously. The pain in his wrists was increasing, but he did not dare press Saphira...he could see how furious she was, but he knew her anger was driven by fear, so he waited.

Extending her neck, Saphira sniffed him carefully, her nostrils flaring wide at the scent of fresh blood. She growled. _What __am __I __going __to __do __with __you, __Little __one?_

Eragon only laughed.

* * *

><p>Murtagh sighed, leaning his head back against the trunk of a massive oak tree, staring up at the stars. he was <em>free.<em>He expected himself to be happy, jubilant, but the only emotions he felt was a hollow emptiness...confusion, pain and grief.

Thorn came up behind him and settled down next to his Rider, his hot breaths warming the back of Murtagh's neck. _This__ is __not __the__ end,__Murtagh._He said gently, pressing his rough jaw against Murtagh's head, his soft breaths stirring his Rider's hair. _We__ will __return__ someday...when __we __can. __You __will __see__ her __again.__We __will __join __with __Eragon__ and __Saphira._

_ I __just __feel...I __feel...empty...I __don__'__t __know...I__'__m__ scared __and __sad. __I__ shouldn__'__t __be, __but __I __am._He turned his head to look at his dragon, not ashamed of the tears on his cheeks or the pleading desperation of his mind. _I__ know __who __I __am, __Thorn...but __I __don__'__t __want __this __constant __fear...I__'__m __afraid __I__'__ll __give __in __and __lose __myself, __and__ even__ you __won__'__t __be __able __to __save __me. __I__'__ve __been __through __too __much...I-I __can__ '__t-_He clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. He felt utterly helpless.

Thorn took a long time to answer him, but when his words came, they were gentle. _Oh __Murtagh...I__ know __of __what __you __speak, __for __these __are __my __emotions __as __well, __but __remember, _the dragon lowered his head so they were eye to eye. _Whatever__ you __suffered, __I __suffered.__I__ never __gave __into __to __Gallbotorix, __and __I __won__'__t __let __you __give __up__ on __yourself. __We __have __years, __Murtagh,__ centuries...we __will __heal._

Murtagh leaned his cheek against Thorn's jaw, keeping his eyes closed. _Thank__ you._

The dragon laughed. _I__ love __you, __foolish __human._

Muratgh smiled, the first true, beautiful smile he had smiled in months. _I __love __you __too __Thorn._


	7. Chapter 7 brothers, dragon riders

**these snippets are mostly focused on Murtagh and Eragon, their relationship with their dragons, and their own friendships...again, inspired by Inheritance. **

**please review**

Murtagh slowly drew Zarroc from its sheath and regarded the gleaming blade for a moment. It glinted in the light of the sun like its own minature fire, the red sending flecks of sparkling light dancing around the clearing. His fingers tightened around the hilt, and he took a deep breath, settling into a crouch.

He paused for a moment to collect himself, and then leaped foward. His body flowed into a famalier deadly, dance. he spun and jumped around the clearing, his sword a extension of his body, humming with a kind of vicious energy as it sliced through the air.

A roar interrupted his concentration, and he jumped backward, automatically glancing up at the sky.

Thorn swooped down to earth, his blood-red scales as brilliant as the gleaming sword in Murtagh's hand. The dragon regarded him for a moment with his wings half-unfurled, tail lashing back and forth. Murtagh shivered as Thorn's lip lifted in a snarl, and he felt the oddest shift of emotion through their connection.

_Thorn?_

The dragon sank into a crouch and sprang at him, swiping out a taloned paw playfully. Murtagh sidestepped and automatically brought Zarroc around in a sweeping arc, the blade humming past his dragon's claws by inches.

Thorn landed with a soft growl and spun around to face his Rider once more. _well__ done,__Murtagh._He cocked his head and raised a paw, glancing at Murtagh out of the corner of his eye. _do__ you __like __to __dance __with __fire?_

Grinning, Murtagh charged his dragon, sword raised high. Thorn let out a soft roar and reared backward, flaring his wings and releasing a jet of blood-red flames. Murtagh rolled, slicing Zarroc's humming blade through the fire.

Thorn's taloned paw encircled his body in an instant and the dragon pinned Murtagh to the ground, regarding him with glimmering eyes. He snorted, and heat seared Murtagh's face as flames shot from Thorn's nostrils. _Oh __yes,_the dragon purred. _humans __do __love __to __play __with __fire,_he loward his head and breathed a cloud of smoke in Murtagh's face, a deep laugh rumbling in his chest, _but__ dragons,__ dragons __understand __fire._Murtagh laughed as Thorn threw back his head and sent a crackling sheet of fire tinged with red flames at the clear sky. _and__ that __is __why__ I__ won __this __match._

Murtagh rolled his eyes and tapped his dragons foreleg with Zarroc, projecting a tinge of playful sarcasm into his thoughts: _Very __wise,__ Thorn._

* * *

><p>Saphira flared her wings, pulling sharply out of the dive and looping backward, racing Firnen up to the pillar of puffy white clouds high above. Eragon clenched his eyes shut against the wind and wrapped his arms tighter around her neck.<p>

She uttered a ringing roar and sliced her spiked tail through the clouds, sending a curtain of moisture scattering across the sky towards the younger dragon and folded her left wings, somersaulting through the air away from his advancing attack.

_Show__ off._

She hummed.

Eragon spared a quick glance to the right to see Fernin shooting towards them, flames flickering from in between his gleaming fangs. Arya flashed him an evil grin.

_Saphira..._

She flared her wings and came to a halt, turning around to face the green dragon. Her wings viberated with the force of keeping them in place against the powerful wind, and Eragon felt her gather herself, and the firey emotions coursed through their bond, making him shiver and his cheeks flare red.

A deep whoosh came from her as Saphira filled her lungs. Eragon ducked his head against his arm, preparing herself.

Saphira released a crackling jet of flame at the same time that she pushed her wings down, propelling them backward, never ceasing her torrent of fire. Firnen roared and Arya yelled.

_Was __that __really __nessacery?_

She craned her neck around to regard him with sparkling eyes. _Maybe __not, __but __it __was__ certainly __fun._

* * *

><p>Sometimes, it was easy to forget Galbotorix, to forget all the horrible things that had happened to them, when they had lived in bliss for so long.<p>

One day, when Eagon was meditating, he felt the touch of a familier mind, and all the memories came pouring back. Pain. Fear. Death. Battle.

His eyes flew open, but he did not move, knowing that they would come to him.

Saphira touched his thoughts. _do__you-_

_ yes. _

In the back of his mind, Glaedr growled.

Eragon closed his eyes again, and breathed out slowly, calming himself, grounding himself into the earth. He pressed his palms flat against the moss-covered ground, where the tremors could already be heard.

He worked his jaw to relieve his ears from the thudding pressure.

He felt and heard them before he saw them. Thorn landed with a crash that sent birds flying and squirrels yammering. He could hear the steady beat of the red dragons heart, the deep whoosh of his breaths, he could **feel** the fire on the dragon's breath.

Murtagh's thoughts were calmer than he remembered, more gentle, more at peace. He took three steps close to Eragon and stopped.

Eragon slowly opened his eyes and inspected the pair. Murtagh looked tired, as though he had not slept in days, but when he smiled, it was the truest, most beautiful smile that Eragon had ever seen on his face.

Grinning, Eragon pulled Murtagh into an embrace, feeling his friend relax into his grip. Years of peace had done Murtagh good. he was different, changed.

Eragon pulled away and regarded his brother with a sense of awe, and a rushing feeling of excitment. "Welcome home."

Murtagh smiled, and tilted his head back, up to the sun, observing the forest with such a carefree expression that Eragon laughed very quietly. Murtagh looked at him. "what?"

Saphira stepped up behind Eragon and brushed Murtagh on the brow. _Welcome, __Murtagh._She purred. _We__ missed __you, _Eragon knew she meant more by those words. she meant, we missed your friendship, we missed seeing you happy, we missed fighting with you...we missed our friend.

Murtagh put a hand on Thorn's side and inclined his head toward Eragon and Saphira. _We__ missed __you __too.  
><em>


	8. Chapter 8 Arya and Firnen

**It's been a long time, hasn't it? sorry...**

**I finally wrote out Arya and Firnen's chapter, but I am not quite sure how happy I am with it. let me know what you think :P**

With Eragon gone, he is the only one who understands her. He knows her as well as she knows herself. He knows her thoughts, her feelings, her dreams, her desires, her pain, her nightmares, her memories...

She wears a mask every day, a mask of cool, calm, indifference. The habit of years is hard to break. Only Angela, and sometimes Nasauda manage to make her smile.

But he knows her true self.

He knows her pain, her longing for the boy, no, the _man _and the sapphire dragon, just as she knows his longing for his temporary mate. And really, there pain is one, flowing from mind to mind, heart to heart...because they are one. He is a dragon, and she is his Rider.

And in reality, Arya does not truly exist. The Arya of her past, the strong-willed, the injured, the elf with so much passion and hatred for the dark king, so much love for Faolin, confusion towards Eragon, was gone. Now, she is Arya the queen, the dragon rider.

Firnen changed everything.

But he changed it for the better.

* * *

><p>He turns his head to look at her, and she can feel the heat of his breath against her neck. Without looking at him, she reaches up and strokes along the line of his jaw, tracing his sharp scales with her fingertips. He pushes his snout into her hand, welcoming her touch.<p>

_Where do you think they are? _She asks, still not looking at him. She is looking at the stars, as if they might give her the answer she wants to hear.

_I don't know. _

She hears the dry rustle of his scales as he settles down, coming closer and lying down, with her in between his front paws. Still, she does not turn. It is on nights like this one when she cannot sleep, when she can only remember. Remember, and mourn her loss, Alagasia's loss.

_Now you are being melodramatic. _Firnen chastened gently from behind her. He blew out a breath, tickling her with the heat of fire. _We will see them again. _

Suddenly furious, she whirls around and glares at him, breathing hard. _Can you not leave me to my own thoughts?_

He blinks, regarding her with his gold eyes that gleamed even brighter in the moonlight. _Arya. _

There is meaning behind her name. Gentle exasperation, love, sympathy, and sorrow. She feels his emotions as her own sweep through her, shock her, leave her breathless and staring at her hands.

Firnen extended his neck and lowered his head so they were eye to eye. _You are young, Arya, by the standards of your own race, but you are no hatchling. I know your emotions...I know your pain, but-_his lips twitch almost as if he is going to smile. Could dragons smile? _Eragon is not dead. Saphira is not dead. You will see them again. Someday. _

_ Someday._ She whispers, and to her shame her eyes begin to burn. She swallows hard. _I miss them. _

He sighs, his expression softening, suddenly gentle. _Come here, Arya. _

Without hesitation, she runs towards him, throwing her arms around his scaly neck and hugging him as tightly as she can, pouring her emotions, her thoughts, her _self _into him and letting him hold her. One warm wings encircles her body, and he presses his head against hers, his mind holding hers in a mental embrace.

_I miss them too. _

* * *

><p>She had flown before, she had fought from the back of a dragon before, but she had never flown like <em>this. <em>This was pure exhilaration, pure energy, pure joy.

She flung her arms wide and laughed until tears were streaming down her cheeks, laughed until all the dark memories vanished like wisps of cloud on a windy day.

Firnen flared his wings and looped out of the dive, swishing his tail through the air, his own excitement bubbling over into her thoughts. _We rule the sky. _He whispered to her.

She grinned, laying her head against his warm neck. _You rule my heart. _

He laughed at that, his sides vibrating under her legs. _Arya. You are so poetic and dramatic when you are emotional. _

_ It is true. _

He arched his neck, flapping twice to maintain hight. _I love you too. _

She struck him playfully, unable to shake off her good mood, feeling giddy and reckless all at the same time. _I never imagined being a Rider would be so...so..._

He grinned wolfishly, craning his head around to look at her. _So dramatic?_

_ Firnen-_She started, knowing what he was going to do.

He let out a ringing roar and dove towards the ground, lashing his tail from side to side and allowing hot crackling, jade tinted fire to bathe the air in front of them.

Arya clung to him, laughing, and simply enjoyed the moment, for a little while.

* * *

><p>The hatchling cocked his head, staring at her. His eyes were so intelligent, so <em>beautiful. <em>His mind was a vast, confusing labyrinth, with deep magic and fire burning at its core. She had never looked so completely into a dragons mind before, and never with one so young. Reflexively, she clenched her hands into fists, the gedwey ignasia burning on her palm. She was a Rider, and before her was her dragon, the partner of her mind, her soul. Her best friend.

"What do I name you, little one?" She whispered in the ancient language, weaving her musical thoughts with his deep mind, twining their beings together. He shivered and arched his neck, humming low in his throat. He blinked, his thoughts curious, open, accepting...she was running out of adjectives to describe them. They moved in quick flashes, indescribable yet totally understandable. How peculiar.

She extended her hand towards him, as she had done when they had first touched, and waited.

He paused as well, watching her with his gold eyes, his lip slightly curled, nostrils flared wide as he breathed in her scent, both of their scents. And then he lowered his head, and pressed his spiked head under her fingers, rumbling, emotions and thoughts and memories pouring into her mind.

The name that came from her lips was a strangled gasp,and she felt tears burn in her eyes as she said it, felt a sense of satisfaction deep in her mind, knew that he approved as well.

_"Firnen." _


	9. Chapter 9 Brom and Eragons Saphira

Standing with his back against a tree, waiting for Eragon, Brom thinks about what he should do.

Eragon will undeniably call for his dragon when Brom confronts him, but he can't have the beast diving in to save its rider when he needs his son to give him answers...

He is strangely reluctant to touch the dragon's mind, for reasons he cannot explain. It should be natural, and easy and effortless thing to do, but his chest aches at the thought.

Sighing, he reaches out with his thoughts, searching for a consciousness so familiar, yet so foreign.

A roar fills his mind as she(the thoughts were undeniably female) senses his presence.

_Peace, _He soothes before she can shut him out, _I want to help your Rider. _

A quick stream of pictures flash through his mind as she considers his words: deer hunts, snow covered houses, Eragon's smile, his gentle hands on her wings...

When he senses a shift in her thoughts, an acknowledgment, she says, _How?_

_ Because my dragon was slaughtered at Doru Araeba. _

Her cold shock and rage hit him with crippling force, and she roars, this time outloud. It echoed faintly in his ears like a beautiful, long-forgotten song.

She does not ask where or what Doru Araeba was, she does not question him at all, she simply says, _I come. Help him. _

And then she severs their contact, and he lets her, allows the beautiful touch of her wild thoughts to fade from his mind, even if he doesn't want too.

He's talked with Glaedr often enough after Saphira's death, but this dragon was different. Special.

Sighing, he swipes the tears off his cheek and waits for his son to arrive, planning a good firm speech to scare the boy and convince him he needed help, and listening to the steady sound of a young dragon's wings as she soared above his head.

* * *

><p>He can't breathe when he sees her for the first time.<p>

She dives out of the sky-all playful twists and sparking scales-and lands with an unpracticed crash in front of Eragon.

She snorts, twisting her sinuous neck to look at him with curious eyes. She's blue, the same blue that has haunted his thoughts for so many years, and she's so _young_. She looks like...like...

He doesn't realize he's crying until Eragon pushes past him to greet her. They are still so awkward with each other, him and his dragon, but he can see the devotion in her eyes. Their bond is strong.

He whispers something about his sight being veiled without really thinking about it, digs his staff into the ground hard.

The dragon comes up to him, bends her neck so they are eye to eye. The bright sapphire blue of her iris stabs his chest, and he swallows hard, waiting.

Once she is satisfied with her scrutiny of him, she bends her head to his hand, an invitation.

Stretching out his fingers, he can feel his old gedwey ignasia tingling on his palm. He brushes her brow, lightly, and a flash of images pass between them in a matter of seconds. He had already told her things to keep her away from Eragon when they had first touched minds, but now that he was _really _seeing her...the pictures poured out: _His Saphira with her laughing thoughts and her sharp words, flying together, their bond and-_

She jerks away from him with a frightened snort and backs away behind Eragon, tail flicking nervously.

He has frightened her.

Regret washes through him quickly. He needs to apologize, but it would be rude to touch her thoughts again. Turning to Eragon, he whispers, "What's her name?"

His son looks up at him,boyish youth and defiance and pride written all over his face, and somehow, _somehow _Brom knows before Eragon whispers the word that changed his life forever, the word that haunts his sweetest dreams and his worst nightmares-

"Saphira."

* * *

><p><em>I wish you hadn't told me this, <em>Saphira says as they are flying back to Eragon after searching for the Razac and he has told her everything. _It is hard to keep secrets from him. _

"You haven't told him what I truly am," He reminds her, shouting over the roar of the wind.

She growls and snaps her teeth together. _That's different. And talk with your thoughts, please, all this shouting is making you sound like a dying goat. _

He laughs at that, and pats her neck. _Better?_

_ Much. _

He likes her teasing thoughts and conversations. He has come to learn a lot about his sons dragon over the past few days, and although she is not really like his Saphira, she is his friend, and he loves her, in an odd way.

_Eragon will wake soon. _He says. _Do not tell him until the time is right...and you know when that is. _

He shouts as she gives a little buck under him, and snaps, _What was-_

_ Enough talk, old one. _She growls, but her words have a tinge of playfulness. _I won't speak of it, I swore not too. Stop worrying, and __**fly!**_

She lets out a roar, and suddenly they are diving towards the ground, spiraling and twisting, dancing through the air. Brom clings to her neck, closes his eyes, and allows himself to enjoy the sting of the wind in his face, and the sudden tears that burn in his eyes.

* * *

><p>He wakes, shivering and crying one night.<p>

This hasn't happened in years-but the fighting and Eragon's injuries and stupidity with magic have shaken him to the core. His son nearly _died_-and...

_Brom? _Saphira raises her head to look at him. She is coiled around Eragon, and he thought she had been asleep.

"I'm fine," He says out loud, a gruff whisper.

Her lip curls. _You are lying, old one. _

Pressing his hands to his eyes, Brom lets out a long, deep sigh. He doesn't want to talk about his Saphira, doesn't want to think about his nightmares or his weaknesses. He needs to be strong for Eragon so he can wack the idiotic fifteen year old over the head and beat some sense into him before he goes. And he will go, soon, he can feel it in his bones. Part of him wants it, because there's a possibility he'll see his Saphira again, but he doesn't want to leave his son alone without help...

Saphira stretches out her neck to brush her jaw lightly against his head. It is a gesture of affection she normally reserves only for Eragon, and the tenderness of it touches him. He swallows hard.

_Tell me about her, _Saphira whispers, quietly. _If you think it will keep the night-darkness away. _

She's so _young. _So innocent and young and fierce. He looks up at her, the moonlight reflecting eerily off her brilliant scales, Eragon's dark hair just visible under her right wing. She is such a proud, beautiful young dragon...so much potential and so much heart...

Saphira tugs at his thoughts, lightly, a question.

He takes a shaky breath, clears his throat, then decides to whisper his story with his mind, partially for the intimacy of the conversation and partially because he doesn't want Eragon to have any chance of hearing this yet.

_Her name, _he starts, slowly, _was Saphira..._

* * *

><p>He is having almost too much fun fighting Eragon.<p>

His son is so rash and young-so wild and predictable in his movements, and Brom is forcibly reminded of himself at fifteen, when Morzan was his hero and Saphira his life, and he smiles at Eragon's exasperation.

Saphira growls a little at each blow he strikes his son with, but Brom does not let up. Finally when his son stumbles away after the sparring, bruised and bitter and muttering to himself, Brom throws his stick away and says to Saphira, _Thoughts?_

She lets out her peculiar growling laugh, and curls her lip. _The old one beats the hatchling, yet again. _

Eragon growls and hits her on the leg.

This only makes them laugh harder.

* * *

><p>Saphira watches him with curious eyes as he makes her a saddle.<p>

_Did you make your dragon a saddle, old one?_

He almost jumps at the touch of her thoughts. They haven't spoken since the farm, and the rough growl of a dragon's voice in his mind is quite jarring after so many years. Keeping his eyes on his work, he replies with a simple, _yes. _

She bobs her head in a nod, blinking as she absorbed his statement. It occurs to him that she doesn't really know anything about dragons except of Eragon's poor, limited knowledge and her own instincts. She's curious about her own kind.

_Will it hurt me? _She asks, confirming his musings, _Those deer-like creatures..._

_ Horses. _He names them for her, smiling.

She growls. _Horses. Those saddles..._

_ This will not harm you, _he says, coming up to her and strapping it on to demonstrate. _It will start to itch after a time, but it does not her. _

She nods again. _Thank you. _

They do not talk anymore that night, but after that conversation, he would occasionally feel her reach out to him with her mind, just the lightest brush of her thoughts, asking a question or commenting on something, and he liked it.

But sometimes he wonders if between her and Eragon he will have answered all the questions in the world. Those two never stopped questioning every little thing.

But even though he grumbles and complains about it, he really doesn't mind.

They remind him of what it's like to be young.

And Saphira reminds him of what it's like to live.


End file.
